


Waiting

by ToschiWorlds



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Angst, Dadgil, Hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23696785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToschiWorlds/pseuds/ToschiWorlds
Summary: Nero is trying his best to take care of his injured father but nothing works, so he seeks out the only help he knows he'll get.
Relationships: Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 210





	1. Chapter 1

”Try to get some sleep, Nero.”, his father suggested, “I will be fine in the morning.” But he wasn’t. In fact, he was worse than the day before and the nine-year-old boy knew because his father wasn’t awake by the crack of dawn as he usually was. He wasn’t outside, practicing with his sword nor was he making breakfast. No, he was still in bed by the time the sun started coming through the curtains, barely even moving save for rattling breaths. Nero slipped out from under his blanket and walked over to where his father was resting. He carefully tried to shake him awake but only got a muttering response and a shoulder turning away from the tiny hand placed on it.

Unsure of what he was supposed to do next, the boy simply pushed a chair next to the bed and sat on it, waiting. Waiting and waiting, waiting for his father to wake up and be fine. By late noon that still hadn’t happened. Nero had noticed the pearls of sweat on his father’s forehead and had gotten up from his watch a few times to get a cold rag from the bathroom. The sun was beginning to set and there was no sign that his father was going to wake up soon. Nero really didn’t know what to do now. The night passed in almost complete silence.

  
The following day, nothing had changed. His father didn’t wake up for sword practice or the breakfast Nero had managed to make him, he didn’t move whenever a new cold rag was placed on his face or his son tried to wake him. Another day passed like this, and another and another and another.

  
By the time, his father had been asleep for a whole week, Nero was scared that he was never going to wake up again. He didn’t want that, he didn’t want that at all! He wanted his father back! The boy scrambled from his chair to the backpack where they always stored their important stuff, his toys and his father’s books. Nero rummaged through their possessions until he got a hold of a small black notebook and flipped it open. There on the first page, in neat handwriting, was an address. His father had told him – made him promise – that if anything ever happened to him, if he could no longer be there for him, Nero was supposed to go to this address and explain to the owner that he was Nero, son of Vergil, and he would get all the help he needed. And that was what he needed right now, help. He quietly put his coat on and stored the notebook inside. Nero took one last look at his father, still sleeping, before he slipped out of the door and into the rain.


	2. Chapter 2

Dante wasn’t exactly sure what he expected when he answered the door at freaking 2:30 a.m., but it sure as hell wasn’t a little kid, soaking wet from the rain and staring up at him with eyes the same shade of blue as his own. Before he even managed to get a word out, the kid declared: “I need help.” That was the usual reason anyone came to Dante. They needed his help because a demon was messing up their lives or something like that. But he really couldn’t imagine that was why a child showed up at his door in the middle of the night. During a storm, no less.

  
“Better come inside first. Rain’s cold?” The kid nodded and Dante opened the door wide enough for the kid to shuffle inside. He closed the door, reducing the sound of the rain hitting the ground to a dull. The little boy stood in the middle of the room, looking around in awe. The water dripped from his coat and drenched the wooden floor. Oh, what were a few more stains anyway? The kid didn’t seem bothered by the mess of empty (or not empty) pizza boxes and magazines, tossed into random corners. “So…”, Dante began, “You need help?” The boy turned around and lowered the hood of his coat, revealing hair the colour of fresh snow. Dante froze in his tracks at the sight.

  
“I’m Nero, son of Vergil.”

  
Well… Shit, what was he supposed to do with that? The last time he’d seen or heard anything from his brother had been almost ten years ago, right after the temen-ni-gru. And now, this kid claimed to be his brother’s child. He’d laugh, call it a good joke and dismiss the idea completely because who in their right mind would have slept with Vergil, of all people?! But if the white hair and blue eyes weren’t proof enough, the aura surrounding little Nero practically screamed their blood relation into his face. His brother’s son – his nephew (holy shit, this was really happening, wasn’t it?!) – had come to his shop in the middle of the night… looking for help. 

  
“Dad said… if he can’t be there for me anymore, you would help.”

  
Shit again. What the hell had happened to Vergil? Why couldn’t he be there for his son?! He didn’t like what was being implied here at all. His brother was an idiot, the biggest idiot the world had ever seen but he was still his brother and that meant that he cared and worried. And he was worried. Vergil was strong, strong enough to take on an entire hoard and barely even break a sweat. For crying out loud, Dante, pull yourself together. The kid doesn’t need you to panic. You can have a meltdown later. Dante got down to his knees to be on eyelevel and gave the most reassuring smile he could muster in that moment. “Can you tell me what happened?”, he asked, trying his best to keep his voice steady.

  
“There was a big monster and it was trying to hurt me, but Dad got hurt instead and now he won’t wake up anymore. I tried to… help him, but it… it’s not working… and he’s just not waking up!” Dante’s heart was aching as the kid’s voice cracked and the tears, he was trying to supress broke free and streamed down his cheeks. He placed a gentle hand on Nero’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Don’t you worry, kiddo. I’ll help your dad. Wanna show me where he is?”


	3. Chapter 3

The rain had started to ease up soon after they left the shop. Dante had been a bit nervous about letting the kid on his motorbike with him but Nero had quickly found a safe grip and looked like he was having fun. This was probably his first ever ride on something like this. They were en route for about 30 minutes when the line of buildings started to thin out and eventually was replaced by trees, the distance between streetlamps widening. It didn’t take long before Nero called for to him to stop and pull over. The engines died down as they got off the bike and Dante took in their surroundings. There wasn’t much out here, just the forest, a single road winding through it and the lights of the city still visible in the distance. 

“We there?”, he asked, turning to the kid.

  
“Almost. Come this way.”

  
Nero led him to a footpath hidden in between some bushes. It was muddy from the rain and overgrown, roots from the trees posing trip hazards for clumsy feet. After a few minutes, Dante spotted an old-looking cabin a couple of feet away. For a moment, he thought that this couldn’t be it. Clean and orderly Vergil wouldn’t ever stay anywhere so run down but the kid was heading straight for the door and turned the rusted handle.

  
“Dad?”, he called hopefully. No answer. Dante patted his nephew’s shoulder sympathetically and stepped inside. The indoors of the cabin looked a little better than the outdoors. There was one main room that had two doors leading away from it, the first of which seemed to lead to a small bathroom and the second was closed. The furniture in the main room wasn’t anything to speak of really, an old and broken table with some chairs around it in a corner and two beds placed against the wall. Nothing of interest. No, what was of interest to Dante was the sleeping form of his twin brother on one of the beds. He could hear Vergil’s rattled breathing and slow (but at least steady) heartbeat from across the room. He was at his side in three long strides and sat down on the bed. Vergil’s hair was down as a result of the sweat and the now not-so-cold rag on his forehead. As Dante reached for it, his fingertips brushed against burning hot skin. He took the rag and handed it over to Nero who hovered nearby. 

  
“Can you get another one of these?”

  
Nero nodded quickly and grabbed it before disappearing into the bathroom. He focused on his brother again. It was obvious to him that the fever and unconsciousness were the result of poison, nothing else could possibly put him into this state. But he couldn’t for the life of him think of a demon whose poison was this strong. “Hey, Nero, remember what the monster that did this look like?”

  
The boy’s head poked out of the bathroom, eyes trained on his father before looking over to Dante. “It looked like a really big bug. It had claws and a giant tail with a pointy end. And it had black armor all over it. Dad killed it but it hurt him too.” A scorpion demon then. That explains it, nasty critters. Nero came back with a rag dripping with water in his hands and Dante moved slightly to the side so he could place it. Vergil gave a soft moan in response. “You can help him, right?”

  
“Kid, there’s nothing I can’t fix. Just gimme a little space to work, okay?”

  
The young boy sat down on the other bed while demon hunter got to work. He very carefully searched his brother’s body for the wound, making sure he wasn’t moving him too much lest it cause him unnecessary pain. Lady liked to call him irresponsible and reckless but he was in fact quite capable of the opposite as well. He eventually found it just below the scapula and it looked better than he was expecting. The wound had already closed and while he could definitely see the poison in the veins, it was pale, fading. Vergil’s healing had kicked in and was fighting it with full strength.

  
“Well, kiddo.”, he began and Nero immediately jumped of the bed to stand next to his father, “Your dad is already mending. He just took a real beating with this one, so he’s taking a little longer.” Dante was sure he’d never seen anyone face light up like that. Nero’s eyes were practically glowing with joy and hope.

“He’s going to be fine?”

  
“Yeah, but do you say we move him to my place? It’s a lot nicer than this hole.”


	4. Chapter 4

Vergil slowly found his way back to consciousness. He was sure he had never felt this horrible in all his life, his limbs were aching and his head was throbbing. Even something as simple as opening his eyes took effort and it took a moment before they had adjusted to the brightness of day. The morning sun was shining through the window to his right. It would have been quite the beautiful sight if it wasn’t for the fact that this was not the cabin, he had fallen asleep in. Panic rose within him as he realized that he was not only in a place he did not recognize but also that he was alone. Where was his son? Where was Nero? He looked around frantically and spotted the Yamato, leaning against the nightstand. Vergil swiftly lifted himself off the bed to reach for his sword as pain shot through him and he fell back as his body refused to follow instructions. 

The floorboards just outside the door to the room creaked and the handle twisted downwards, slowly as if whoever was on the other side was hesitating. His whole body tensed in anticipation as the door swung open and immediately the tension vanished. There on the threshold stood his twin brother, white hair framing his face and even wearing a shirt.

“Well well, sleeping beauty awakes.”

“Dante…?”

“The one and only.” To say that Vergil was confused would be an understatement. Dante was the last person he had expected to see. A demon come to finish him off, a stranger who had happened upon him, anything would have been more likely to happen than his brother appearing. Dante crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, a cocky grin on his face.

“What? No ‘Hello’ or ‘Long time no see’? I’m hurt, Verg.”

“How did you…”

“Know where you were?”, he walked over and seated himself on the edge of the bed, “You got your kid to thank for that. Nero came to find me because you overslept. He was really worried about you.” Nero. His son, his everything… He had left him to fend for himself because he had been reckless enough to get hurt. He had left his son alone. “Where is he?”, Vergil asked, carefully adjusting his position so leaned against the frame of the bed.

“Downstairs, playing with my jukebox. Wanna see him?”

Vergil nodded and Dante shifted in his seat ever so slightly so that he faced the open door and his voice echoed down the hallway, calling for Nero. He liked the way his brother pronounced his son’s name. It sounded warm and welcoming and natural. The sound feet hitting the wooden floor grew ever closer, slow at first but then faster and then Nero appeared in the doorframe. The young boy’s face lit up when he saw his father awake and leaped onto the bed, his small arms thrown around his father’s neck. 

“Dad!”

Vergil brought his own arms up around his son and tightly hugged him back. For a moment, it felt like that if he let go, he would slip back into the dark of sleep. It felt like Nero – his son, his precious son – was all that anchored him to consciousness. Dante’s presence was all but forgotten as he clung to the warmth of his child, spreading through his body. Eventually Nero loosened his grip and pulled back a little and Vergil could see a whirlwind of emotions in the pair of eyes, staring back at him. “Are you okay?”, he asked, his voice a dangerous mix of uncertainty and worry. Vergil offered the boy a reassuring smile and ran through the white hair with his fingers. “Don’t worry, I am fine. I’m sorry that I upset you.”, he did not like the watery glint in Nero’s eyes, he never liked it when his little boy cried, “What about you?” 

“I’m okay. Mister Dante has been really nice to me.” Vergil looked toward his brother who was still sitting on the edge of the bed, watching father and son with a contented smile. He gave a small nod saying ‘Thank you’ and Dante winked a ‘You’re welcome’ in response. The doorbell ringing pulled all three of them out of the moment.  
“Aha, Pizza’s here!”, Dante declared as he stood up, “Anyone hungry?” Vergil had to admit that, considering he hadn’t eaten in god knows how long, he was starving and Nero quickly piped up with an excited ‘Yes’. 

“Nero, why don’t you go with your uncle and help him with the food. I will be down in a minute.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll… Wait, uncle?!” At that, both brothers couldn’t help but chuckle.


End file.
